


stolen moments

by writingramblr



Series: Kinktober 2018 [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coming In Pants, Deepthroating, Fluffy Angst, Hair Pulling, Hands Free Orgasm, Kinktober, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Somewhat, alleyway blowjobs, credence has long hair and graves has a wooden arm, credence works with newt, flangst, mentions of come marking, mild bondage, the blue silk scarf TM, they're trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 10:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16427684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: “Does Scamander know you’re here?”Credence’s focus is on the hand between his legs, rubbing steadily over his hardening cock, and it takes a moment for him to come up with words.Then he shakes his head, a tiny minute jerking motion.“N-no sir.”





	stolen moments

**Author's Note:**

> originally inspired by
> 
>  
> 
> [ **this art here** ](http://mto-art.tumblr.com/post/156225023835/n-no-sir-credence-starts-sneaking-out-to-visit)
> 
>  
> 
> posted in a collection which i deleted, then decided to revise for kinktober:  
> day 27. Exhibitionism/Voyeurism ~~| Degradation | Gun Play |~~ Against a wall

“Does Scamander know you’re here?”

Credence’s focus is on the hand between his legs, rubbing steadily over his hardening cock, and it takes a moment for him to come up with words.

Then he shakes his head, a tiny minute jerking motion.

“N-no sir.”

“Good. We wouldn’t want anything to put a stop to our little encounters.”

Credence opens his mouth to agree, but a moan comes out instead, and he can feel the wetness from his arousal seeping into the seam of his trousers. God help him, surely Mister Graves will notice and slow down or pull away, but he  _ doesn’t. _

Quite the opposite, the man instead moves closer, pinning Credence properly into the brick, and grinding the heel of his palm  _ harder _ against his cock, as Mister Graves noses in, and licks at the side of his neck, exposed by his missing scarf. The rough scrape of the man’s beard on his sensitive skin is enough to make the short hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and his cock twitches with eagerness.

That same scarf that’s left from his neck is currently binding his hands behind his back, and straining his wrists. The pain blends with pleasure as Credence’s orgasm threatens to overtake him, and he whimpers before he can stop himself.

“Close?” Mister Graves asks, voice near a growl more than a whisper.

“Y-yes sir.” Credence stammers, on the very edge, until the man’s hand leaves him wanting, hips jerking minutely. 

“Get on your knees then.” Mister Graves murmurs softly, lips pressing to Credence’s earlobe, before nibbling gently. 

He goes down at once, and barely thinks to cast a cushioning charm in time, so he won’t wince at the sting of cobblestones. 

Credence leans forward and nuzzles his cheek against Mister Graves’ inseam, and gets a strangled grunt in reply, along with the cool kiss of wooden fingers tightening in his long hair, jerking his head back, as magic undoes his pants, and frees the man’s cock. It smacks obscenely on the side of his cheek, warm and hard and dripping from the swollen pink head.

“Sir? Can I?” Credence blinks up at him with naked want, and Mister Graves smirks indulgently.

“Of course. It’s not there to just be looked at.”   
  


Though some days, the man does merely touch himself and then make a delicious mess of Credence’s face, spilling his seed over his lips and chin, calling him too pretty, too perfect, before cleaning him up with rough hands and powerful magic that leaves his skin tingling. 

But not today.

This time, Credence is allowed the privilege of having that thick cock guided in between his lips, pushed down his throat, and the bittersalt taste that he’s dying for, addicted to, hits his tongue. 

Mister Graves holds his head in both hands like Credence is a fragile, precious, thing. 

Not a man powerful enough to level a city, even though he still is, and Credence lets his eyes fall shut, swallowing around Mister Graves’ cock with eager gulps of saliva.

“Can you come from this?”

Mister Graves is asking him, and Credence nods, just barely, before he can feel one of the man’s shoes stepping between his folded knees, nudging up and against his aching cock, throbbing, and trapped in his pants. He groans, and the sound vibrates into Mister Graves’ cock, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Harder, please.” Credence gets out, the sound choked by the man’s length smoothly sliding back into his mouth.

Credence takes it deeper, until his nose is being tickled by the man’s public hair, and he feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes, the pain, the urge to gag. 

He endures, and refuses to quit, instead, allowing his own orgasm to wash over him, at the tap of Mister Graves’ shoe, his hips jerk forward, and he’s coming at last in a glorious rush. 

Blowing hot and thick into his pants, Credence rides out the waves of bliss as the hand in his hair clenches, and keeps his head where it is, lips taut around Mister Graves’ cock.

Warm steady pulses flood the back of his throat, and he swallows over and over, mindlessly devouring each drop of Mister Graves’ come, until finally he’s released. 

The hand that almost hurt in his hair is now stroking gently on the nape of his neck, and Credence falls back onto his heels, panting for air, coughing mildly.

His arms are burning from being kept behind his back so long, but as he turns to look up at Mister Graves, the sight is worth all that pain, and so much more. 

The man is undone, unraveled, still trembling in his aftershocks, hands shaky on his waistband, one flesh and one wood, both always know how to best rile him up and take him back down.

“Credence… next time, I think we should meet at my place. I find myself growing tired of grimy alleyways. Besides, I cannot see myself shoving you against a wall without clothing on.”

Credence smiles dreamily and then nods, licking his lips unnecessarily, because he knows it catches the man’s eye. Mister Graves wants him naked, in his bed. It’s far more than he could dream of. “Yes, please sir, lets.”

The man holds out his wooden hand, curling his fingers, and freeing Credence’s arms from the bondage of his scarf, so he can then be helped back to his feet, charmed clean, and feel a proper embrace. “I didn’t hurt you did I?” Mister Graves asks, his words kind, voice rough.

“No sir.” Credence answers without a hint of a tremor to his voice.

“Good.” Mister Graves kisses his cheek, and then his lips, as his thumb brushes against Credence’s jawline, he leans into it, and desperately chases another kiss. 

All before the man is stepping away, swinging his borrowed scarf back around his neck, smiling almost sadly. “Take care of yourself now, Mister Barebone.”

“You do the same, Mister Graves.” Credence replies, the memory of their meeting already a shining image, blazing through the past, erasing yet another encounter from the man who stole Mister Graves’ face. 

 


End file.
